


Sparks

by Katia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Scorpius Malfoy, Coming Out, Cover Art, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Albus Severus Potter, Hand Jobs, Harry Potter Next Generation, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Pining, Romance, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Summer Romance, image description included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:05:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19286839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katia/pseuds/Katia
Summary: When Scorpius started dating Rose, Albus was left behind. That is, until they break up after seventh year and Scorpius invites Albus on a summer trip abroad to reconnect. Just two bros traveling together to romantic locales. . . Albus' feelings for Scorpius return in full force. Little does he know his friend is starting to question things, too.





	Sparks

[Image description: Cover for “Sparks,” a combination of digital illustration and digitally altered photographs. The title of the fic is at the top of the cover, and at the bottom in smaller font reads “An Albus and Scorpius Story.” Just above the latter, Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy sit on the grass together as they look over a beach in Malta. It is dusk, and bright lights swoop down in the darkening sky. Scorpius has an arm around Albus, who rests his head on Scorpius’ shoulder. Their backs are to the viewer, so their expressions are hidden. Their body language suggests they are comfortable, if not a bit awkward.]

“Albus, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Two years ago, Scorpius Malfoy would have simply sat down beside Albus Potter without asking, launching into Quidditch drama or what so-and-so said at lunch or how they should fit in last-minute O.W.L.s revising. Albus glanced at his friend before returning his attention to the group of first-years splashing in the water at the edge of the lake, their shrieks carried by the late spring breeze.

“I got a letter from my father this morning, he’s letting me travel next year.”

Albus flashed a brief smile at him. “That’s great!” Even with summer fast approaching, he had no idea what to do after graduation and tried not to resent how sure Scorpius was about everything.

“Yeah, he wasn’t helpful in the emotions department when it came to my breakup, so it seems he’s using this to let me clear my head, figure things out. Still, he loathed the idea of me traveling alone.”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “What, he wants to go with you?”

“Ha! No, he knows I’d rather go with _Rose_ than him, and trust me, if you knew everything she’s said to me…” Scorpius trailed off. The awkwardness may have stemmed from a dozen different things—most likely, though, it was because Albus was still in the dark about the gory details of Scorpius’ breakup with Rose Weasley, and because they rarely talked to each other, making their average conversation move like a leg-tied Plimpy.

“That’s good, then.” Albus hesitated before adding, “I think he’s right, though, about you being on your own.”

“I know, that’s why…I was sort of hoping you’d come with me.”

“Oh.” Joy flooded through Albus, and Scorpius suddenly seemed more real. “Are you sure?” He shaded his eyes to better see the handsome quirk of Scorpius’ lips, the delicate jawline and pointed cheekbones. The feelings had never truly left.

“Of course I am.” Scorpius squeezed his shoulder briefly. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to come with me. But…you’ll have to help me plan.”

“You know how much I love planning. Of course, I have to talk with my parents about it. Is your dad okay with me coming along?”

“Yes, he actually already asked your parents, and they’re letting you go.”

“You were that confident I’d say yes, were you?”

Scorpius smirked. “You could use an adventure.”

**◳◳◳◳◳**

A month later, the two boys had stayed in Ireland, Germany, and Spain, in addition to a number of other countries in between. Along the way, their estrangement returned to friendship, and that friendship became more like companionship. Initially, they preferred to book rooms with two twin beds, then they were fine with sharing one and transfigured it to be larger, and then they left it how it was, with enough space separating them that they fell asleep, bodies grazing. Albus never minded when he woke up to find Scorpius’ arm splayed across him, and vice versa. There were other ways Albus measured their comfort with one another: their growing unconcern with modesty, the intuition they had in reading whether the other was up for a day of travel or not, and the uptick in random favors or gifts they exchanged.

At the same rate that their friendship deepened, Albus’ longing for Scorpius intensified. For the most part, he could hide his attraction within their friendship. Sometimes, though, their conversations shifted dangerously close to revealing everything.

After returning to their hostel following a busy day partying at the annual July wizarding festival in Spain, Albus’ mind buzzed with some of the men he’d glimpsed at the Muggle Pride parade, trying to imagine himself as free and comfortable with himself as they were with themselves, unsure if he wanted to be that way in the first place. To hide his reaction to the parade from Scorpius as they passed it on their way to the hostel, he had allowed himself merely a glance in their direction.

Somehow, probably as a result of the drinks from a couple hours before, he and Scorpius got to the topic of relationships.

“Have you kissed anyone since our fifth year?”

Albus averted his eyes. “No. I was asked out once in sixth year and, er, I turned her down. Some Gryffindor.”

“Right, I think I heard about that.” Scorpius watched Albus closely, searching for a sign of emotion beneath his controlled expression. “Have you even fancied anyone, ever?”

Albus’ face burned as though under a magnifying glass as he struggled to respond. “Not particularly. I guess something’s wrong with me. Er, I know I’m not ace or aro, so…” It was the easiest way to lie—staying parallel to the truth. Scorpius had been his first kiss, and he had waited two years to be able to kiss him again.

On the Friday night after finishing their O.W.L.s, Albus and Scorpius had been invited by some Ravenclaw fifth-years to a party they were throwing in their common room. Although Albus and Scorpius loathed most parties, Scorpius insisted on attending because Rose would be there. Joa had told Hazel who told Scorpius that Rose had a crush on him, neither mustering up the courage to do anything about it.

Some rogue sixth-year who had been invited to the party came up with the brilliant idea to play Spin the Bottle, a game equally loathed and loved by teenage wizards and witches across Great Britain, and apparently the Muggle community from which it had apparently been adapted. Everyone sat in a circle, and one person would begin by placing an enchanted butterbeer bottle in the center and spinning it. Whoever it landed on had to kiss the spinner. If they refused, the bottle would hex them with whatever embarrassing spell the host chose. In this case, bright red lipstick marks would bloom on the person’s face.

There was one more twist, since it would be easy for participants to choose a peck on the lips over 24 hours of lip-stained embarrassment: after each successful kiss, the designated lovers had to add five seconds to their snogging time. For this reason, Albus planned on volunteering to go first, but a dozen Ravenclaws had the same idea and beat him to it. He was stuck between Scorpius to his right and the first spinner to his left, which meant he’d be dead last. Right away he decided his dignity wasn’t worth having his first kiss in front of twenty people and that he’d refuse on principle if the time requirement was longer than ten seconds.

Rose was the twelfth person to spin, and by her sly glance at the Ravenclaw girl who had enchanted the bottle, she planned to land on Scorpius. Since the kiss had twisted in Albus’ memory, he recalled it as gross and devoid of real emotion, seeming to last forever.

Scorpius’ bottle landed on Rose, which erased any doubt that the bottle was rigged. This time, they went even longer, to shouts of “Get a room!” and more lewd variations. Once it was finally Albus’ turn, he spun with the full intention of taking the hex. And then the bottle landed on Scorpius.

Everyone laughed at the irony—Scorpius and Albus had a reputation for being unusually intimate friends, to the point that every now and then rumors circulated that they were together.

_Just take the hex_ , pleaded Albus mentally when Scorpius turned to him. Everyone was staring, and it seemed like Scorpius, riding the high from snogging Rose, cared far less than he did.

“We’re up to a minute, lads, so you’ve got to go all in.”

While Albus’ skin was dark enough to hide the blood rushing to his face, Scorpius had gone completely red.

“At least I know what I’m doing now, right?” said Scorpius, attempting to ease the tension by squishing Albus’ cheeks so he looked like a fish. He smiled, then moved his hands down to Albus’ shoulders. “You okay?”

Albus nodded numbly, and they stared at each other for a moment before Scorpius leaned in and their lips met. His mind went blank, and for the first time he could remember, he was entirely in his body. He parted his mouth and placed a hand on Scorpius’ waist, and they fell into a rhythm, all tongue tips and noses pressing into cheeks and the careful touch of hands. Albus was grateful for the whoops and jeers and laughter because it drowned the sound of their lips and his erratic heartbeat.

It had been both the shortest and longest minute of his life, receding in his memory but growing in significance over the final two years at Hogwarts, until his imagination had warped the moment and he forgot exactly how it happened. He was reminded of it whenever Scorpius kissed Rose in the corridor before class and she wrapped her arms around him like the snake coiling in the pit of Albus’ stomach. Later, he realized that the bottle had probably been enchanted to land on whomever the spinner most desired in the room, making the whole game even more retrospectively miserable. He became bitter toward Scorpius, and the five years they spent together as friends mattered less and less compared to the time Scorpius spent kissing Rose and not him.

The Scorpius sitting next to Albus now seemed much more intuitive and clear-headed, and if put in the same scenario, perhaps would have let it mean something. “You shouldn’t worry about it. It’ll happen when it happens. If you are interested in meeting someone, though, I was thinking we could go out to a club sometime.”

“If you want to, I suppose.”

Scorpius studied him, softening his voice. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah…” Albus knew immediately what Scorpius was getting at.

“Should I ask you, or are you have you guessed what I’m planning to say?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Panic engulfed Albus. He was not prepared to confess his feelings, and because Scorpius’ tone both indicated he knew what Albus would say and was ready to console him about it, he leapt into internal denial. _No, I’ve never felt anything for you, that’s ridiculous, you’re my friend—_

“Are you gay?”

Albus blinked, suddenly doubtful the conversation was headed in the direction he had suspected. “That’s your question?”

“Well, yeah. I don’t care either way, you know, but it matters because I couldn’t tell if you hadn’t wanted to me to find out, or if I was imagining things, and if it’s why you haven’t dated anyone even though there are a few blokes who were out at school that you could’ve dated, though they hadn’t seemed like your type, but people were fine with them, so you would’ve known it’s okay, except maybe no one’s told you it’s okay and—”

“Yeah, I’m gay.” _So that’s all Scorpius suspected._ “It’s okay, it’s not your fault I didn’t tell you. I suppose I preferred you to figure it out, so it’s better this way. And I didn’t say anything before the trip because it seemed irrelevant, if that makes sense.”

“No, I understand. Completely. I just didn’t want you to assume you had to hide it. I’ve seen the way you look at other guys, and gay couples, and today—well, I want you to be able to comment about them to me instead of looking all wistful or ashamed.”

If Scorpius had noticed that, did he really have no clue how Albus felt about him? “You aren’t weirded out, then, that we’re traveling alone together and I like guys?”

Scorpius shrugged. “I was actually more worried that by being with me, you’ve missed out on a summer romance with someone.”

“If I were out having some romance, I’d be missing out on traveling with you. We weren’t in the best place when you asked me, I could’ve said no or made up an excuse, right? Look, I’ll be more honest with you from now on. And if you have something you’re keeping to yourself, tell me.” _Like if you’re in love with me._ “I want you to know this is the happiest I’ve been in my entire life.”

Scorpius smiled and hugged him. “Me, too.” They pulled away, both misty-eyed.

Albus felt awfully close to kissing him, to confessing, so he searched for a distraction. “So why don’t we go out tonight? To a Muggle club, so we’re not recognized.”

“Are you suggesting a gay club?”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. There’d be guys at a regular club, too, and I’m not expecting anything to happen. And I’m sure after today they’ll be packed…”

“No, we should. If it’s too crowded, we can leave.”

The club they ended up finding was beyond capacity, filled with colors and costumes from the parade, and a slew of drunk men. After uncharacteristically tossing back several drinks in quick succession, Albus stopped noticing the sweaty bodies pressed against him and started making prolonged eye contact with the other patrons, shouting small talk over the music to those who had weaved through the crowd to see him. Scorpius was completely overwhelmed and cursed himself for drinking at the beginning, which made watching out for suspicious people more difficult.

Albus tugged at Scorpius’ shirt. “This guy wants to snog, should I do it?”

“Er, he looks sort of old.” Scorpius held Albus’ arm tightly and glared at the man, who met his stare and shuffled away.

“You’re no fun.” Albus stared up at him, snickering, pressing Scorpius’ cheeks together.

“What’s so funny?”

“ _You_ should snog him. To see if you like it.”

“You’re clearly so drunk you’re delusional. I think it’s time to head back.”

“I’ve only had two—three beers. And a few shots. I think. And I refuse to leave until I snog someone. That was the whole point, yeah?” Albus’ fingers played in the hair above the nape of Scorpius’ neck, and he leaned against him as though he was unable to stand otherwise.

“Fine. Er, how about this, if we leave now, you can kiss me when we’re home.”

Albus beamed and hugged him. “You’re the best.” 

Once they were back in their tent, Albus slung his arm around Scorpius. “Honey, I’m home,” he said, giggling.

“I said ‘home,’ and this is just where we’re staying.”

Albus processed this slowly, face crumpling as he understood. “You’re so _mean_.” He started to cry, blubbering through his words. “It was _your_ idea t-to go out, not mine, and you w-wouldn’t let me have any fun. I’m g-going to be alone, and you don’t even _care!”_

Scorpius winced. “That’s not true. You shouldn’t be doing anything with anyone when you’re pissed like this. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to throw yourself at some random guy who only wants to get in your pants!”

“I _want_ someone to get in my pants, you bloody idiot! Just because your sex drive died along with your relationship doesn’t mean mine has!”

“Don’t turn this on me and assume you know what I’m feeling. Go drink some water, you should go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Albus retorted something unintelligible, then stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

The next morning, harsh sunlight woke Albus up, forcing him to shield his eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. After downing a small potion with the note “Drink this for your hangover,” he emerged from the loo, his symptoms mostly improved.

In the kitchen, Scorpius was standing in front of the stove, wand aloft.

“What’s all this?”

He turned to look at Albus, apprehensive. “Breakfast. I’m sorry about last night, I was out of line and I’m sorry I upset you.”

“S’fine, ’cept lower your voice, please.” Albus rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, it’s coming back to me. Yikes. I really lost control, I think I was working through everything from before. I’m glad you looked out for me, because I was not in a state to get all disgusting on a random stranger.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re not used to that much alcohol, and you needed to let loose. To be honest, I should’ve expected you’d have half the blokes in the place drooling over you.”

“Why?”

Scorpius flushed. “Well, you’re young, and fit, and you’ve got your hair and your eyes going for you…” 

“Wow. Good thing I wasn’t fishing for a compliment or I’d be in the bathroom crying again.”

“Hey, I can do better.” He waved his wand to bake the scones and busied himself with preparing them. “You don’t smile for everyone, and when you do, it feels really good. Oh, and because your skin is darker, your green eyes stand out.” He made a popping motion with his hands. “So people can’t help staring at you.”

“That’s better.”

“ _And_ you’ve got loads of freckles, even on your forehead, which you wouldn’t see right away because of your bangs…Ah, you know what I’m trying to say. You hardly need me to compliment you when you could get whatever guy you wanted. Just don’t start by going after anyone more than a couple decades older than you, alright? Younger than our fathers, please.”

“Ha, right.” Albus wondered if Scorpius noticed that he had broken out in a nervous sweat. _Whatever guy I wanted?_ “What about you, was there anyone giving you the eye?”

“Everyone thought we were a couple, I think, so if they were, they kept their distance. I was too busy warding off sleazy men to notice.”

“No one fit enough that you questioned your sexuality?”

“Well, sure, I can tell when a bloke is attractive. I’m not sure at what point it counts as questioning my sexuality, per se.”

Albus suddenly remembered how Scorpius had tricked him into leaving. “Er, can you pretend I hadn’t agreed to kiss you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Albus looked at him, confused, until Scorpius cracked a smile, and he understood. “Great. You know, despite everything, I still sort of wish I had kissed someone—sober, or less drunk, at least. To get it over with.”

“Why does it have to be ‘to get it over with’?”

“I dunno. I doubt a relationship is in my near future, and whoever I’m with will be weirded out if I told him the only person I’ve ever kissed is my best friend when I was barely sixteen.”

“Not only your best friend: the son of your father’s childhood rival.”

“Of course. What would our dads say about that, if they knew?”

“Actually…I told my dad. Before we left.”

“What?” It was embarrassing enough that nearly everyone at Hogwarts had known, but for either of their dads to find out was ten times worse. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t want to make this about me, so promise we’ll continue the conversation about you, alright?”

Albus nodded and sat down at the counter across from Scorpius, who had finished preparing his plate.

“My dad came out to me a month ago.”

“As…?”

“As gay.”

“Bloody hell.”

“He was waiting until I was old enough to know because he figured it’d be upsetting, especially after my mum passed. He was broken up about it, for lying to us, and eventually I tried to console him, that I didn’t think it was unnatural, and I’d kissed a guy before, and I understood what he was feeling. Er, as much as I could understand, considering… Anyhow, in hindsight, I’m not really sure why I brought it up. Maybe because I was trying to explain that his generation was more prejudiced and homophobic, so it’s unfair for me to stay mad.”

“Shit. So what do you think about it now?”

“I mostly want you to know you can be yourself around me. It’s 2024 for Merlin’s sake, and I’d be an awful friend for caring who you like. I’m going to be better.”

**◳◳◳◳◳**

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of countries, cities, languages, and festivals. There were some days when Albus relished Scorpius’ ignorance to his feelings, which afforded him the shoulder touches and bed-sharing and occasional pants-less mornings. Then there were days when Albus wished Scorpius could figure it out to put him out of his misery as he agonized over what would happen once it was finally out in the open. While it was fun getting swept up in the energy of the summer, the constant activity paired with Albus’ inner turmoil made it completely exhausting.

“I know we planned on visiting Romania next, but to be honest, I doubt I’d have it in me to avoid death by fire-breathing dragons. I still think we should go, I just need time to slow down first.”

Scorpius retrieved his planner and flipped through the next month’s schedule. “Then let’s go to Malta, I can cancel our reservation for October and we’ll stay at a campsite.”

The two agreed Malta would provide a needed change of pace, and although it was in the middle of tourist season for the Muggle community and the wizarding community, it successfully helped them relax. Their days were spent in part at the beach, then in the tent so they could cool down, and in the evenings they went downtown to eat and sightsee.

One day was terribly hot, about 35 Celsius, making it uncomfortable at night for the pair as they tried to fall asleep without sheets pulled over them. Albus was naked save his pants, yet still felt sweat bead on his back.

Finally, he began to lose himself in half-formed dreams, but right before he fell asleep, he felt a light touch on the nape of his neck. Scorpius traced his skin from the top of his shoulder, across his back, and down his spine, and up. It took everything in his power not to shiver or change his breathing, remaining absolutely still until the hand retreated. There was a faint tap of wand against wood as Scorpius apparently prepared to cast a spell, followed by a rushing sound and a chill that lowered the temperature in the room. After returning his wand to the beside table, Scorpius shook Albus’ shoulder. “Hey, I used a spell to make it cooler in here, so I need to move the sheets. I didn’t want you to get cold.”

“Hm…?” mumbled Albus, feigning bleariness. “Oh, thanks.” In truth, his heart raced and sweat once more broke on his skin despite the improvement. Why had Scorpius touched him like that? Clearly he had no idea how someone who was attracted to the same sex could read into the gesture, or he wouldn’t have risked doing it. 

The spell did help tremendously with his discomfort, but not with his wakefulness. Heart racing, he rolled closer to Scorpius, who he hoped would cross the rest of the distance. Since their backs facedone another, he couldn’t check whether Scorpius had fallen asleep. Knowing nothing would happen both disappointed and relaxed Albus, so he let dreams take over.

When he woke up in the morning, Scorpius was holding him, face buried in his back, one arm tucked between them and the other around Albus’ waist.

_Had something happened last night?_ wondered Albus in a daze as he got out of bed. By the time he returned to his full awareness, he only remembered the fingers at his back and how he’d wanted to be held. Maybe Scorpius had been cold, so the body heat drew them together. _That makes the most sense_.

When he got out of the bathroom, Scorpius was awake, tidying the living room. “Morning, Albus.” He looked up and snorted, pocketing his wand as he met Albus halfway. “Your hair is uncontrollable. The complete opposite of mine.” He ran his hand through Albus’ hair, attempting to form it into some sort of style.

Doing his best to ignore how good the fingertips felt on his head, Albus replied, “At least my hair stays out of my eyes.”

Mock-offended, Scorpius shook his head so his blond hair fell forward, blocking his vision. “Better?”

“Perfect.”

That night was the lights show held at the first Friday of every month, so they abbreviated their routine, spending an hour in the ocean before exploring the city.

The streets were packed with tourists. Scorpius kept veering one way and Albus another to push through the throngs of people, slowing their pace as they periodically had to find each other. Eventually, as they’d done a few times in tourist-heavy cities, they held hands, Scorpius leading since he was taller. Any sense of intimacy was outweighed by the uncomfortable pull of Scorpius’ arm as they navigated.

“Let’s go in here,” said Scorpius over his shoulder, guiding Albus to an ice cream parlor tucked between two restaurants.

Scorpius let go of Albus and wiped his hand on his shorts, offering it again, to which Albus raised an eyebrow. He took it anyway. _This is new._

“I’ll get you something, if you let me have some.”

“Okay, thank you.” They went up to the counter and ordered. As he internally repeated to himself that the grip on his left hand meant nothing, Albus’ eyes followed Scorpius, waiting for a sign that revealed the meaning of the handholding.

“Here you are.” The employee glanced at their clasped hands only for a moment after giving them their ice cream.

They nabbed a table by the window as soon as one freed up, grateful for the break from standing.

Over his cup of vanilla ice cream, Albus watched Scorpius, thinking it terribly unfair that he was allowed to use his mouth in such a way in a public place.

Catching Albus’ eye, Scorpius held out his cone. “What, you want some?”

“Er, yeah, sure.” Albus leaned forward and licked the swoop of chocolate at the top of the cone.

“Now I need some of yours. As payment.”

Albus carved some of the ice cream with his spoon and held it out to Scorpius, who ate it off the spoon, like they were on a date.

Before either of them had a chance to say anything about the taste, they noticed an elderly woman approaching their table. “You are a very nice couple,” she said, smiling at each of them in turn.

Due to her heavy accent, Albus thanked her before he registered what she had said. There was no point in clarifying, as she had already shuffled to the door and rejoined the mass of people outside.

“Well…that was a first.” Scorpios laughed, his sunburned face glowing even pinker than before.

“I’m not sure why I said ‘thank you’ right away, I suppose I felt bad correcting her. ‘Sorry, you went out of your way to compliment a queer couple but you were wrong, we’re not dating. So from now on you ought to assume everyone is straight.’”

“You needn’t explain why you said it. I just thought, isn’t that the ultimate measure of friendship? You know, people mistaking your friendship for something more.”

This annoyed Albus for a reason he had difficulty pinning down. “Congratulations, then, we’re true friends now.”

Knowing he’d somehow offended Albus, Scorpius continued eating his ice cream in silence. When he finished, the awkwardness had sufficiently passed, so he asked, “What should we do now?”

“I could use a nap.”

“Me, too.”

Back in their tent, Albus slipped between consciousness and sleep, unable to stop thinking about what had happened in the shop. 

_Is it that much of a mental leap to imagine we could be a couple?_ Which led into, _Why can’t Scorpius see that we could be together?_ Which spiraled into, _Scorpius is an insensitive straight person who is willfully oblivious to my feelings._

“You’re spinning out,” the more rational voice in Albus’ head told him, unhelpfully. More helpfully was his stomach, which alerted him that it was nearly dinnertime.

They went out to eat before the lights show, then spent the next half hour searching for a place to sit.

As they neared a grassy slope high up on the wizarding section of the island, Scorpius said, “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing earlier, she caught me by surprise, is all.”

“It’s okay.”

Scorpius nodded, relaxing, which irritated Albus. Couldn’t he try harder to figure out what his reaction implied? _Obviously he doesn’t care enough about how I feel._

Their spot was too remote from the festival and food by the water for anyone to join them. Something about knowing they wouldn’t be disturbed and the silent beauty of the sunset pushed Albus to pursue the subject further. “It’s stupid, but I think I was upset because I thought we were trying to make a point to people, not ticking off some box of our friendship. And if I held hands with my boyfriend in public, I want it to be part of something bigger, something more than, ‘Oh, they’re two good friends.’” Realizing how he had almost suggested his feelings for Scorpius, Albus added quickly, “Do you get what I’m saying…?”

Scorpius nodded. “I think so. It seemed simple to me compared to what I’ve, er, done with Rose, so I hadn’t considered it from your perspective.”

“It’s not quite that, though. I suppose…I want to be complimented like that when I’m actually dating the person.” _It reminded me that we’re not actually in a relationship. And it will never happen._

“Oh, okay. In that case, when you do date someone, I’ll compliment you whenever possible.”

Albus chuckled, despite the stab to his gut. “Thanks.”

The sun had fully submerged into the water, leaving swaths of orange in its wake. Cheers rose up around the bay in anticipation of what would happen next. Then, in the distance, a thread of blue light appeared above the water, branching out and growing until it was a complex network of scribbles. Piece by piece, the tangles of light shifted, revealing the skyline of Valletta. With a cascade of crackling sound, the picture dissolved into colorful streams of light, abstract and then concrete, imitating the hues of the sunset, then fire, then the ocean.

Turning his head slightly, Albus regarded Scorpius, breath catching at how the colors played on his face. To keep himself from staring, he rested his head on Scorpius’ shoulder. He felt completely timeless, as though they had sat like this for years and would remain for as long, his consciousness equal parts at the center of the swirling streaks of light and in his body.

Scorpius put his arm around him, thumb drawing circles on the skin right below Albus’ sleeve. Albus wanted to tell him to stop, he was only making things more difficult, but he was transfixed by the beautiful light in the harsh void of the sky, which made his entire body ache, desperate to feel alive. His right arm was squished between them, so he pulled it free and placed his hand in his lap. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed it on Scorpius’ thigh. It wasn’t high enough up for Scorpius to assume what it suggested; it was a challenge. _This is what you’re doing to me._

To worsen Albus’ nerves, the show chose that moment to depict a love story. A man, all smooth purple lines of light, formed at one end of the bay, and at the opposite end formed a woman made entirely of red crackling sparks. Entranced by the woman, the man conjured a bouquet of flowers, then rushed to offer them to her. She seemed hesitant before she accepted the bouquet, and no sooner had she leaned in to smell it than it burned up in her fiery hands. Dejected, the man presented her with more and more gifts, all of which burned up as soon as she touched them. Furious, the man sent a tidal wave toward the woman while her back was turned, extinguishing her sparks so that she became a purple-lined being like him.

The woman stunned the man, then fled, her journey expressed by the glowing landscapes that whizzed by her as she ran. Finally, she reached a city much like Valletta, where there were spark-people and fire-people and people of many expressive forms of light. At a party in the streets, she noticed a blue-sparks man. After approaching him and introducing herself, he backed away and indicated that touching him would burn her. She held out her hand and conjured a weak red spark, then brought their hands together. _This can work_ , she seemed to say. They danced, surrounded by some pairs of indeterminate genders, pairs that appeared to be different, and still others that were the same.

At the end of the dance, the man and woman kissed, sending red and blue sparks along the lines of their bodies. Albus held his breath. That is what it had felt like to kiss Scorpius, what it felt like to _imagine_ kissing Scorpius. After the story fizzled out, the lights had a vibrant finale, then the sky went dark.

When the display ended, so did the distraction between them. There were cheers in the distance, too muted to conceal the pounding of Albus’ heart, the cool wind too gentle to outweigh the sensation of Scorpius’ slow-moving finger or the warmth of the thigh under his hand. The pulsing in his head and chest threatened to kill him, so Albus was forced to sit up and search Scorpius’ expression, unsure.

Scorpius leaned in and kissed him, briefly enough that Albus had little chance to register what was happening.

As soon as they parted, Albus pulled his hand away, heart pounding. “Let’s go back.”

“I’m sorry, I thought—”

“We shouldn’t talk about it here. Let’s Apparate.” Albus took hold of Scorpius’ arm.

“Er, okay.”

They Apparated in front of their tent, lifted the protection charm, then went inside.

Scorpius pointed at the lamp in the living room to illuminate it, then said, “Albus, I read the moment wrong. I assumed, because you…”

Albus began to pace, frustration growing inside him. “You’re just missing affection. _That’s_ why you asked me on this trip, _that’s_ why you kissed me.”

“Are you being serious?”

“You keep doing these things that you shouldn’t, not when you’re straight, not when you don’t mean it.”

“Hey, listen.” Scorpius stepped in front of Albus to keep him from pacing. “I missed _your_ affection, Albus. Rose couldn’t give me what I needed. If I had kept both of you in my life, I’d’ve broken up with her because you would’ve reminded me what I was missing. I never saw myself growing old with her. With you, Albus, I—I want you to be in my life until I die.”

Albus’ breath caught in his throat. He tried to be convinced, but doubt still pooled in his eyes, his vision muddled like his mind. “Then why did you choose her over me in the first place? You kissed both of us that night, but you chose _her.”_

“She fancied me, you didn’t! And even if I had known I was attracted to blokes, I couldn’t tell I could be in a relationship with you just because I liked kissing you. You’ve proven I can.”

“How could you not _know?_ I knew, I’ve known for years! You can’t go and choose to fancy the same sex because they’re easier to be with.” Debating helped Albus regain control of his tears. “I fancied you. I’ve had feelings for you ever since that bloody game, probably even before.”

Shock flooded Scorpius’ face. “And you never told me?”

Albus shrugged. “After that we were barely friends, so anything more was out of the question.”

Scorpius took Albus’ hands, expression pained, pleading. “Things are different now.”

“Obviously,” said Albus, breathless, his eyes on Scorpius.

“Then, I wanted you back, and now— _I want you_. So will you let me prove I fancy you or not?”

“You think kissing me will convince me?” It was an empty retort, since Albus was ready to believe Scorpius, to find out if his fingers could express more than vague curiosity.

Scorpius stepped closer and reached up to run his thumb from Albus’ cheek to his lips. They leaned in gradually, and finally kissed again, heart-achingly soft, like they were back in their fifth year. This time, however, Scorpius wouldn’t turn around and choose someone else. As Albus felt up his shirt, he was reminded of every time his skin had burned when he got too close to Scorpius, the times they had gone swimming and he’d lost himself imagining what might happen if he worked up the courage to touch him.

The hand at Albus’ shoulder and in his hair trailed down to his waist as Scorpius kissed his jawline, then his neck, teasing the edge of his shirt collar. Desire washed over Albus, all-consuming and exhilarating. _He wants me._

Albus kicked off his shoes and led Scorpius to the bedroom, waiting as Scorpius unlaced his shoes and shoved both of the pairs to the side. He climbed in with Albus so they lay side by side, touching faces and wrapping legs. When they untangled, Scorpius positioned himself on top of Albus.

As they kissed, Albus started to react. Before he could pull away, embarrassed, he felt the same reaction in Scorpius, hard against his thigh. They briefly met each other’s gaze, then Scorpius undid Albus’ shorts and pulled them off, moving his hand up Albus’ leg. “Is this okay?” he asked between kisses.

_“Ah_ …yeah, hang on.” He sat up and removed his shirt, watching as Scorpius undressed to match him.

Scorpius continued kissing Albus, then reached down to touch him over his pants, his hand clumsy but warm and completely engrossing. 

_“Holy shite.”_ Albus gripped Scorpius’ back, trying to keep it together. His tact in not touching himself on the trip was about to be his undoing. He raised himself to meet Scorpius, who took his hand away and pressed back, stifling a moan.

“Merlin, _please…”_ Albus used his grip on Scorpius’ back to force him down harder. When this became too difficult, he switched positions, riveted by the unfamiliar expressions crossing Scorpius’ face, the sounds he made, and the hands gripping his hips. Once they had fallen into a rhythm, Albus bent and brought their lips together, their heavy breathing staggering each kiss.

Scorpius came first, rather without warning, and Albus followed shortly thereafter. They kissed for a minute longer, then Albus rolled off and exhaled slowly, feeling the full force of everything he had just experienced.

With a wave of his wand, Scorpius cleaned them both, then scooted closer so they could spoon. He smelled like sweat and sun and the ocean, and underneath it all was the scent Albus had grown familiar with over the past several weeks, the reason he liked to borrow Scorpius’ shirts and linger whenever they had a reason to hug. _You can kiss me when we’re home._ Scorpius was his home. That’s why he’d been upset, Albus realized, not because of the trick but because it had implied that Scorpius felt they were missing something when they were together. 

Scorpius ran his fingers along Albus’ arm, his thigh, and his chest, as though he might never be able to touch him again. _He found his home in me, too._

Kissing Albus’ shoulder, Scorpius breathed him in before letting his breath go in a contented sigh. He spread his hand on the middle of Albus’ thigh, fingertips drawing in and apart, slowly. “This is where you touched me,” he murmured, sending pleasant shivers through Albus’ body. He moved his hand up until the heel of his palm pressed on Albus’ pants.

The thought that Scorpius wanted him so much electrified the blood coursing through Albus. He shifted his hips, grinding his ass against Scorpius, whose breath came out hitched.

_“Shit.”_ Scorpius’ voice was choked.

Albus’ own breath came up short as the palm pressing against him shifted up and down. “How’s that?”

_“Mm.”_

Albus continued the motion, waiting for Scorpius to react, then he reached for his wand and used a quick spell to lubricate his hand. He turned around and kissed Scorpius, tugging off his pants with his free hand. Albus could see the tan lines that stratified his thighs, connected by the gooseflesh that betrayed the effect of his touch. He ignored his nerves and began slowly, watching his own hands until he knew the shape of Scorpius well enough to look at his face.

“Do you like it?” Albus studied Scorpius intently, trying to memorize the upward tilt of his chin, his flushed cheeks, the scrunched curve of his brow as he fought to keep some semblance of composure.

“Yes. Fucking hell, _Albus…”_ Hearing his name cracked and whining from Scorpius’ mouth caused Albus to move more slowly, trying to make Scorpius last longer.

“ _Ah_ , it’s so good.” Scorpius buried his forehead in Albus’ chest, hands urgently clinging to his back. The hot exhalations of breath against his neck felt brilliant, intoxicating.

“Yes… _there._ Bloody Christ, faster…” He raised his head and they kissed as Albus touched him, until it became too much. Scorpius threw his head back, abandoning the remainder of his restraint, body tensing momentarily, before he relaxed back into Albus’ hands, eyes closed.

After Albus used a quick cleaning spell, Scorpius opened his eyes and assessed Albus’ situation. “Let me return the favor, love.”

Albus would rather be even than receive more. “You don’t have to. I can…finish myself.”

Apparently unconcerned, Scorpius moved further down the bed, bending to kiss the inside of Albus’ thigh, lips and tongue sending shivers through him.

“Scorpius, it’s okay, you’ve done enough already—”

“Do you not want me to?” Scorpius looked up, concerned, while his hand continued to inch closer.

“Ah—yes, I do.”

“I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want.” His lips grazed Albus as he spoke.

“O-okay.”

“Ask for it, then.” Scorpius watched him intently through the blond hair that fell over his eyes.

“ _Please_ , Scorpius.”

His tongue was either extremely cruel or considerate for the sensation that it sparked from Albus’ skin to his veins, fuzzing out the world until it was only Scorpius’ mouth and that _sound_ and his own disembodied voice. He could barely think, too focused on Scorpius’ darkened blue eyes and the fire engulfing him. And then Scorpius moved his hands, so that Albus let go of the sheets to grip the blond head of hair as though his life depended on it.

_“Slower,”_ he begged, sensing that he wouldn’t last very long if Scorpius continued like this. He realized belatedly that he hadn’t actually said it out loud, his moaning unintelligible. Scorpius’ hair was smooth, like water running through his fingers, and the red flush along his collarbone was like fire, flames stirring in his chest and into his mouth, the hot press of his tongue—

“Nn—fuck, _I love you, Scorpius_ , I’m— _I’m—”_ Before he finished the thought, he came, Scorpius’ mouth still around him, unrelenting.

When Scorpius stopped, Albus sighed and let his head sink into the pillow behind him. _“Merlin,”_ he said under his breath, regaining his senses. He wondered if his face had looked like anything like Scorpius’ face, and if Scorpius had intended to swallow or hadn’t heard him properly.

Wand pointed at his face, Scorpius said, _“Oslavo,”_ then kissed Albus, his mouth tasting faintly of mint. Despite seeming to have no discernible eyelashes, when Scorpius brought their foreheads together, there was a faint fluttering on Albus’ cheeks. “So, did I convince you?”

Albus laughed, blinking away the tears that had sprung up after he’d finished. “A few more times and _maybe_ I’ll consider believing it.” He paused, the echoes of Scorpius’ touch coursing through him. “I will say…if I’d known how amazing it would be with you, I could’ve waited ten years, not two. Though, then I’d have lasted two seconds, not two minutes.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you lasted one minute.” Scorpius laughed, then kissed the tracks of tears on Albus’ cheeks. “ _And_ you’re crying. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Please do. You’re rather skilled.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, considering that was your first time.”

“I hope we can find time to practice,” said Albus, smirking, tracing his finger along Scorpius’ side.

“If that was you practicing, I’m in trouble.” Scorpius grinned and kissed him, then kept their faces close. “This may sound odd, but I think before I understood my feelings, I wanted to make you feel good. It actually bothered me that you never expressed interest in sex, and I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way.”

Albus thought this revelation over. “That’s quite gay.”

Scorpius chuckled. “No shit. It took me a while to realize how atypical it is to feel that way toward your best friend. Still, I had to be sure I liked you before doing anything.” He stroked Albus’ hair, his gaze soft, reminiscing. “That night in the club, I knew.”

It made sense now, why Scorpius had been so protective, and why he had offered to kiss Albus but changed his mind, and his thoughtfulness the following morning.

Scorpius propped himself up by his elbow and regarded Albus.“You said you love me.”

“Ah, I couldn’t help it in the moment. I know we’re—I’m not expecting for us to be there because we…Anyhow, don’t feel like you have to say it back.”

Brushing his bangs out of the way, Scorpius leaned down to kiss Albus on his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I already loved you, just in a different way. But for what it’s worth—and I’m not sure what it means quite yet—I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2017 for a friend and felt it was finally time to post! This was written before I saw Cursed Child in London so the characterization in the fic is admittedly OOC but hopefully still enjoyable. If you're looking to read my other works, you should check out my latest Drarry fic, Harry Potter and the Resurrection Veil!


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